Hey, Little Girl
by moonswirl
Summary: Gleekathon, day two hundred and fifteen: After the Madonna assignment, Puck is left to ponder on the life of his own daughter, as a girl out there.


_Started my daily ficlets to make the hiatus pass, then decided to keep going with a second cycle, and then a third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eigth, ninth, and tenth cycle. Now here's cycle 11!_

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**"Hey, Little Girl"  
Puck, Puck/Quinn-ish**

He'd learned a number of things about Quinn, since she'd moved in with him and his family. He found out she was an early riser, that she took the trophy away from his sister and mother on long baths or showers. He also learned that nothing short of a wild stampede stomping by her bed could wake her once she was sound asleep.

This worked fine by Puck because it allowed for him to keep doing whatever he wanted. Sometimes he would play games, but lately he'd taken to a new activity. He'd read something about babies and music, so he would sit on the ground by her bed, with his guitar, and just play for 'it.' Ever since Quinn had moved in, it just made it that much clearer… It was his child, his daughter. He'd known, of course, but she was 'Finn's baby.'

After their Madonna assignment, Quinn had gone and called it an early night. This left Puck to sit there, playing… But then he'd find himself staring back, looking at that bump, covered but evident under the blanket. He knew that wouldn't be for long; she always got hot and ended up kicking it off. Still, he stared… After the head swivelling had wrecked his game, he sighed and switched to his guitar.

He stood by his views, on all counts. He didn't see past his initial belief on the validity of the assignment, or lack thereof. He had his ways when it came to girls, and singing a couple of songs wasn't going to change anything.

It wasn't as though he didn't have certain… exceptions. There was his mother, and his sister… and Quinn, to some extent… But then there was a third category, all on its own, with one person.

He started plucking at the strings on his guitar, wondering if the notes would cross through all these barriers and reach his daughter's ears. He played a soft little song, the same he played when his sister had bad dreams and couldn't sleep.

He knew what it was like out there, he didn't want that for her. The thought that she could ever have to deal with guys… guys… guys like him… He didn't want her to end up in some bad place because of it. He'd never set eyes on her, all he'd ever seen were those blurry sonograms. He'd never seen her, but he could feel in him the responsibility and the connection already forming. It was weird and new for him, but he could recognize it, and that mattered to him.

He felt movement behind him and he stopped playing, turned to see. Right as he'd predicted, she was working to kick the blanket away. He levelled off the guitar with one hand, reached up to help her with the other. Now that she was freed, she resettled in her sleep. He hesitated for a moment, but after a moment, he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He put the guitar down before looking back to Quinn.

He knew he wasn't the easiest person to deal with, he knew… most people would not put up with his crap for that much more than they had to, but she put up with him. Sure, she was pregnant with his baby and didn't really have anywhere else to go, but he knew there was more to it than obligation.

He looked down to her belly… He reminded himself that she was a rock-hard sleeper… It let him do what he felt he needed to do.

He laid out his hand over her belly, that much closer to their child, growing in there. The worst part of all this, in that instant, seemed to be how he just wouldn't be there for her, to prevent these things he was worried about.

He'd been ready to be there for her, from the start, even if Quinn wouldn't have it, have him… It was easy to have been scared, but he had something more than all of them, even if he didn't seem responsible to them in any way, he'd grown up knowing what it was like, to care for someone.

It did have some frustrations, these feelings of powerlessness. He breathed out.

After a moment, he had an idea. He looked back up to Quinn… She was still at peace, in slumber. He reached out to get his guitar again, pulling the strap around his neck. He wasn't sure how to do it, but he'd keep his hand there, he wanted to see, if it would happen.

He gave the strings a few plucks, trying to make out a tune, the same he'd been playing her before. He often came back to it, so if there was anything she might recognize, this would be it.

He liked to think that, between him and Quinn, their girl was bound to have some kind of love and understanding for music. And if he played for her, if she heard him… well then it was just that much more likely to…

He jumped when he felt something move. Then he looked back, and he breathed out and smiled.

"Well, hey, little girl…" he whispered. "Guess you really can hear me, uh?" He resettled with the guitar, continuing his one-handed lullaby. A few seconds later, he felt it again, and it caught him by surprise once more. He reacted when he caught a glimpse of Quinn's hand moving. He watched as she laid her own hand, right by his. Their fingers nearly touched. It seemed like she reacted to the baby's movement, still sleeping.

After a moment, he let go of her, satisfied in knowing she had heard him. He sat back on the ground. He had both hands set to play now, so he'd take advantage of it. He went on playing the song.

He knew she was in there, sight unseen, but now… he'd felt her, moving around, responding to his song. She had been real, but she was… so much more now.

What was going to happen to her? What would happen when someone hurt her or broke her heart? He wanted to be there, to care for her. Some days he almost forgot about all of it, but not really. It was always there, she was always there. He didn't wear it out for all to see. It wasn't their business, so why should he?

He had to trust there would be someone there who'd protect her from him. He'd go on with his life, eased by that knowledge. None of them had planned for this to happen, especially now. But he'd intended to stand up for the situation and he would, in any way he had to.

Maybe the Madonna assignment had some merit to it, whether he acknowledged it to them or not.

THE END


End file.
